


i promise i'll do better

by eggharbor



Series: got the same issues to work through [2]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Gangs, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Feelings Realization, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, Jughead Jones-centric, Non-Linear Narrative, Pre-Relationship, a bit of an explanation, jughead needs a good talking to, things are rough, toni is a good friend, welcome to the prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2019-10-06 16:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17348705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggharbor/pseuds/eggharbor
Summary: Jughead Jones is a disaster in the making, and he's known it for years. Every sign points to the fact that he doesn't have a future, not one outside of this town, at least. And everyone in this town is quick to remind him every chance they get.Betty Cooper is more of a disaster, he's sure of it. Now if he could only convince the rest of Riverdale that she's not the golden girl they all know and love...(In which Jughead and Betty grow through the years, and Jughead learns that maybe Betty's not so bad.)





	1. each breath i left behind

**Author's Note:**

> hi guys! i owe everyone reading this an apology! it's been a month since the last chapter of would i have to pass you by! mostly because i'm sad! and stressed! and incapable of maintaining a consistent writing schedule! 
> 
> no, for real, guys, i'm so sorry for going mia for over a month. it's been a wild ride, but i'm getting back into it, i swear.
> 
> there's a lot going on w/ me right now, and i really can't explain it because it's a lot and it's been a major source of anxiety for me recently.
> 
> but... yeah. i hope this answers a few questions for y'all. i really love you guys and hope you enjoy.
> 
> song for this is "light" by sleeping at last.

He’s heard. Of course he’s heard.

 

Betty, Archie, and Veronica. They’re the fucking golden trio. Everybody in Riverdale knows them, adores them, sings a symphony of their praises. They’re the absolute worst and he hates all three of them and everything they stand for.

 

He hates Betty Cooper the most.

 

Betty’s got her head between her knees at the bottom of the steps outside the school. Her customary ponytail is not quite as high and refined as usual. There’s a hole in the arm of her sweater. She looks broken.

 

It’s the last day of them being sophomores. Betty should be out with her two best friends, raising hell and celebrating the end of another year. But something had happen between those three. Something had caused them to cut ties, and Betty was almost always by herself now.

 

It doesn’t mean he’s used to it. It’s the opposite, really.

 

“You’re still here?” He knows exactly why the question tumbles out of his mouth before he can stop it. None of the things he hates so much about her are visible today. No perfect girl facade, no sickly sense of cheer, no ever-present politeness. Yes, it’s Betty fucking Cooper on the step in front of him, but at the same time, it’s a total stranger.

 

“Yeah.” She’s so quiet that he almost doesn’t hear her. When she meets his eyes, he sees it, suddenly. The haunted look he knows he wears more often than not. The sadness. Her eyes are red and puffy and watery, and his heart hurts for her because he knows. Knows what it’s like to feel lost like this.

 

Maybe it’s a gesture of good will, maybe it’s him extending the olive branch, or maybe it’s just his lousy attempt to erase that expression on her face before he starts doing something stupid like burying the hatchet. “C’mon. I’ll walk you home.”

 

Today, they walk to her house in silence, not a trace of the usual animosity between them. Today, he says nothing to her, no insults, no words of encouragement. Tomorrow, if he runs into her, he’s sure he’ll push her down, call her names, act the villain to her hero, because that’s just who he is.

 

But today, Betty Cooper smiles at him once, and it feels like the sun.

 

And while he makes his way back to the trailer, he mulls over that smile in his head. It’s only for today, after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

His mom leaves a little before his fifth birthday. He can’t much remember her, but according to his father, she had been almost two months along with a baby sister he never got to meet.

 

His parents had never been in love. He knows that now, knows that the way he talks about Ms. Cooper and the way he talks about his ex-wife are on polar opposite ends of the spectrum.

 

It still hurts every holiday, every birthday, every year when his mother doesn’t call or even acknowledge the fact that she has a son. But Jughead learns to live with it.

 

Life isn’t perfect.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Archie Andrews has been a dick as long as Jughead’s known him. There is no better example than the moment he and Betty Cooper become inseparable. All he wants to do is read Horton Hears a Who, but God forbid Archie experience a minor inconvenience at any point in his young life.

 

So he’s lying on the floor, groaning in pain after being socked in the nose by the redheaded boy, and he hears Betty screech, “Stop it!”

 

And the teachers come rushing in to separate the boys and calm down the beloved blonde menace, who had begun to cry at some point. She’s such a distraction to the adults that he and Archie get off with time out for the rest of the day, and nothing more.

 

Later, she and Archie bond over their distaste for him, or some other nonsense all Northsiders have in common. He doesn’t thank her for the lesser sentence, but he does avoid her for a while after that.

 

 

 

 

Attending the seventh grade Spring Formal is not his idea, but Toni is insistent and Sweet Pea and Fangs have already begrudgingly accepted, so he doesn’t really have a choice. She lets him wear converse and his beanie, so he supposes it’s not all bad. But then Toni finds her way over to Cheryl Blossom, who she’s been flirting with since she came out in the fall, and Sweet Pea and Fangs pair off as an excuse to dance together, leaving him all by his lonesome at the snack table.

 

Fantastic. They’ve abandoned him.

 

He shoves a cupcake in his face and considers the pros and cons of sneaking out and walking home. Sure, Toni will be pissed, but she’ll forgive him. She always does.

 

“Care to dance?” He’s sure the melodic voice is speaking to someone else, but a quick assessment of the area shows there is no one else. Everyone’s either on the floor or sitting at one of the various tables set up in the junior high gym. So, fingers crossed, he turns around and finds himself face to face with…

 

Betty fucking Cooper. Of course. Because when has life ever gone his way?

 

She’s wobbly, in a pair of nude heels he swears he’d seen Polly in at one of their various Thursday dinners. Her dress is pale pink and lacy, and it makes her look like the picture of innocence. Her hair is braided up, in a way that resembles a crown. She smiles at him shyly.

 

“Excuse me?” And okay, even for him, it’s harsh. He’ll admit to it. Betty’s little beam evaporates. Instead, she clenches her fists.

 

“I-I just… I thought maybe you… You were by yourself and I thought-“

 

“Thought what? That I needed your pity?” He doesn’t know where this anger is coming from. He isn’t even angry with her, just knows how easy it is to make her wilt.

 

“It’s not pity! I just thought you looked… sad.”

 

He barks out a laugh. Betty flinches. “I’m not sad, Cooper. I’m great. Better than you. At least I have friends who like me. Your friends barely tolerate you.” His words make the desired impact, and she hurries off, eyes shining with unshed tears. Someone shoves him hard, and he stumbles back.

 

“Stupid! You made her cry!” Toni’s being held back by Sweet Pea and Fangs, and the looks on their faces tell him that he’s gone too far, once again.

 

“I just—” He cuts himself off. He knows they’re right, knows he’s in the wrong. “I’ll find her on Monday, and apologize.”

 

Except Betty isn’t in school on Monday, and when he tries to ask Archie and Veronica where she is, he gets shoved into a row of lockers. He abandons his efforts after that.

 

Sometimes, briefly, he’ll wonder about befriending the Cooper girl, about telling her the reasons he has for his distaste. _You’re such an impossible standard, Cooper. Too good to be true._

 

He keeps his thoughts to himself.

 

 

 

 

 

FP drinks, sometimes. Jughead wishes he wouldn’t.

 

It’s not… he’s never _abusive._ His father is a good man who’s dealt with a lot over the past few years. And while he doesn’t blame his son for his wife’s departure, he does blame himself. So that’s why Jughead is unsurprised to come home to a trailer that reeks of booze.

 

“Dad?” He calls out. The answering groan comes from the couch.

 

“Jug, ‘m sorry, didn’t think you’d be home so early,” his dad mutters, rubbing at his face.

 

“It’s fine, Dad,” he replies, as quiet as he can be. “Here, let me get you some water.”

 

“Have you eaten?” His dad asks. Jughead opens the fridge. No groceries. His stomach growls.

 

“Yes,” he lies. He’ll head to Pop’s after his dad falls asleep again.

 

FP thanks him for the water, and within five minutes, he’s dead to the world. Jug marvels for a moment. _Is this what my future looks like?_

 

He hopes not.

 

 

 

 

 

“Betty Cooper, Riverdale High’s girl perfect, _not_ attending a social function where she can flaunt how much better she is than us in our faces? Is this the Twilight Zone?” It’s not his best jab. It’s not even in the top ten. He’s not proud of it, probably because his heart’s not in it. Cooper hasn’t looked the same since… The thud of the door snaps him back to reality.

 

“This is why she hates you, genius,” Toni says.

 

He groans. “I’m worried. Why am I worried?”

 

His best friend rolls her eyes. “Because you care about her, Jug. Somewhere deep down in that cold, dark heart of yours—”

 

“Hey!”

 

“— there’s a part of you that cares,” she finishes, then adds, “And don’t even try denying it!” She points at him for emphasis, but he just raises his hands, shrugging.

 

“I just don’t see where it’s coming from. Last year, I could barely stand to be in the same room as Cooper.”

 

Toni’s gaze softens. Gently, she tells him, “Jug, you are one of the smartest people I have ever met, but right now, you’re being a moron.”

 

“Uncalled for!” He chucks a pencil at her in retaliation. She easily dodges it.

 

“Totally called for!” She laughs. “You may not like to admit it, Jughead Jones, but you and Betty Cooper are very similar.”

 

That gets his attention. “How do you figure?”

 

“For the love of… you’re both fixers, Jug.” The head tilt is an involuntary thing, but it does help stress his absolute confusion. Toni just sighs, slightly aggravated. “Think about it. Sure, it’s not as universal as Betty’s, but if your dad or Sweets or Fangs or I was ever in a jam, you’d be the first one trying to save us.”

 

“That’s mostly because I’m the only one awake when you’re all making mistakes,” he retorts. Toni just shakes her head.

 

“You’re wondering why you’re so concerned about Betty?” She says finally, swinging her bag over her shoulder, heading for the door. “It’s because you know that no matter how hard you’ve fought it over the years, there’s still that part of you that will go to incredible lengths for the people in your life. And like it or not, that includes one Betty Cooper.”

 

He’s still sitting when Toni makes her exit, frozen by a revelation. _Oh_.

 

He cares about Betty. Huh.

 

 

 

 

 

“Do we have to go?” Jughead squirms as his dad fixes his collar and snatches his beanie right off his head, setting it off to the side.

 

“The Coopers are good people, Jug,” his dad says, voice gruff. “They’re respectable. We made a commitment. Not honoring that will only make the town resent us more.”

 

He’s young. He doesn’t really understand the situation. But he does understand that when Betty raises her hand, the teacher calls her smart. When Betty smiles and says good morning, people call her sweet. When Betty asks for another cookie, people say she deserves it. When Betty gets in fights, she’s hailed as a hero for protecting someone’s honor. But when Jughead raises his hand, the teacher rolls her eyes. When Jughead smiles and says good morning, people raise their brows and whisper things while he walks away. When Jughead asks for another cookie, people call him greedy. When Jughead gets in fights, people call him a troubled kid.

 

He doesn’t want to go to the Cooper house for dinner. He doesn’t belong in their world. He’s so young, and he shouldn’t feel the eyes on him so early, but he does, and the scrutiny hurts.

 

FP lets Jughead press the doorbell. “I’ll get it!” A little voice squeaks. The door opens, and Polly and Betty stand in the doorway. “I wanted to get it,” Betty pouts from the entryway, but the bitter expression melts away as soon as she sees Jughead.

 

“Do you want to go draw upstairs? I got new markers for my birthday! Polly and Mommy say I have to be careful with them because they’re really special, but I trust you!” Her face is lit up. Part of Jughead wants to say yes, but what he actually says is, “No.”

 

All the excitement leaves her at once. “Oh, okay.”

 

Betty is quiet, the rest of the night. Maybe she finally understands.

 

Because this isn’t the first time Betty tries to befriend him after her father’s funeral. She sits next to him at lunch and leaves half of her extra cookie on a napkin for him. She sits next to him during reading circle and art class and lays her mat by him during nap time. She’s always talking, always following him, and no matter how many times he tells her to go away, she’s always right there. He hates it. Hates _her_.

 

Her silence gets to him around halfway through dinner, and maybe that explains why he pulls on the end of one of her pigtails. Yes, he hates it that she’s always talking, but he doesn’t like that she’s not talking either. It makes him uncomfortable.

 

“Hey!” She squeals, smacking him. The adults look over at them.

 

“Elizabeth!” Mrs. Cooper looks horrified. “You apologize this instant!”

 

“But Mommy!” Her lip wobbles.

 

“Now, Betty,” Alice says sternly.

 

“Sorry,” Betty grumbles out.

 

And maybe that’s the moment, if he’s being honest. Because for once, Betty was the one who had to apologize. Betty was the one who wasn’t perfect and sweet and incapable of making mistakes. From that day forward, he pledges to make everyone see the real Betty Cooper. The one who’s not so perfect. Really, that’s how it all starts.

 

He meets Toni and Sweet Pea and Fangs soon after. He has friends now, friends from the trailer park, friends from his world. But he’ll never be able to escape the fact that his first friend was the one and only Betty _fucking_ Cooper.

 

He hates it.

 

 

 

 

“Should we say something?” Toni gnaws at her lip. Sweet Pea shuts his locker.

 

“About?” Jughead prompts, concerned. Toni looks more conflicted than she has in a long time.

 

“That,” and she points to a lone figure hunched over across the hall. The signature blonde ponytail gives her identity away.

 

“Sure,” he shrugs. “Hey, Cooper!” He shouts at her. “Move it or lose it!”

 

Betty snaps up, and rushes off. Toni socks him in the arm. “Why’d you do that, moron?”

 

“She was blocking the hallway!” He protests, weakly attempting to defend himself.

 

“Jug, man,” Fangs shakes his head. “That was not the right call.” And he knows Fangs is right, is the thing. Something’s changed, and he has no idea what, but Betty’s acting strange and his stomach is turning. Is he worried?

 

“Where are her goons?” Sweet Pea decides to chime in. “They’ll fix her up, right?”

 

“I don’t think so,” Toni frowns. “Veronica and Archie have been… weird. I haven’t seen them with Betty in a while.”

 

That makes the pit in his stomach worse. He watches Betty disappear around the corner. Should he say something?

 

He decides that if an opportunity presents itself, he’ll take it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Guess I’m more of a freak than you pegged me for, huh?” He huffs, hugging his knees to his chest.

 

“Hey,” Betty’s voice is firm. He meets her eyes. She’s got that trademark Cooper stare, the one that says _I am going to fix you or I am going to die trying_. “You are not a freak. You are a human being, you’re a good person, and you are entitled to feel the way you feel.”

 

He hates how small his voice sounds when he says, “Even if it makes me a bit of a weirdo?”

 

She squares her shoulders. “Well, then,” she says, “I guess we’ll be weirdos together.”

 

It hits him hard, how much she cares. How she can forgive him after how horrible he’s been to her, and then do things like this? It blows his mind.

 

His heart beats in double-time. He and Betty stay quiet, and weather the cold outside with nothing but each other and their smiles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He stops his bike outside of Kevin’s. They haven’t said anything since her confession at Pop’s. He doesn’t really know what to say to her. But then she’s leaving, walking up the steps, and before he can stop himself, he says, “Betty.” She turns back to look at him, and the truth finally tumbles out. “I really don’t,” he says. “Hate you, that is.”

 

And it’s true. Betty smiles at him, but doesn’t say anything. And really, she doesn’t need to.

 

 Somewhere deep inside, he knows that he does not hate her, that he’s never hated her, that he could never hate her.

 

It’s something all new.


	2. get a load of this monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things will (never) be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this is "Home" by Cavetown.

“Betts?” She turns, and he recalls a line from _The Bell Jar. “It was comforting to know I had fallen and could fall no farther.”_ Betty had picked it for an English project around December of their freshman year, and had quoted it incessantly. Funny how long it took him to realize how he felt about Betty. He’d always noticed her more than he was supposed to.

 

No matter how radiant she is, he can’t help but notice how dangerous the situation in front of him is for her. Archie and Veronica, one slightly buzzed, one definitely drunk. She looks weary. His heart breaks for her. “Juggie. Go back to the others. I’ve got this taken care of.”

 

“Are you sure? Because I can—”

 

“She told you to go, man,” Archie cuts him off, slightly triumphant. Jughead feels his fists clench.

 

“That’s enough,”Betty says sharply. It’s a stark contrast from how she looks in the moonlight; like something out of a hazy daydream. Someone so angelic deserves better than what she’s been given.

 

“I’m not the one who’s made Betty miserable for the better part of a year.” Archie looks livid. Betty looks desperate.

 

“Jug—”

 

“This doesn’t concern you. Stay out of it,” Archie snaps. He moves to get in his face.

 

“If you even touch her—”

 

“Just stay out of it, Jones! I can handle this myself!” It’s Betty who stops him, with a hand on his chest and a glare he hasn’t seen directed at him in quite some time. He flinches, and Betty catches herself. “Wait, Juggie, I didn’t—”

 

He stumbles backwards. What was he thinking? Betty doesn’t need him. She doesn't want him. She doesn’t lov— _like_ him. “Whatever.” He doesn’t really register leaving, hopping on his bike, riding to Pop’s… Nothing, not until he hears the quiet clink of the bell on the diner’s door.

 

Betty doesn’t need him. Betty _hates_ him.

 

And he hates her.

 

He doesn’t, but he can learn. He’ll have to, now.

 

 

 

 

Friday press nights are always stressful, but right now, the tension between him and Betty makes everything seem that much heavier. He’s not sure what to say or do to make things right. He’s trying, and Betty is taking notice. She’s been cordial, not cold, since the week began, but he’s also attributing that to the endless lists of distractions being a co-editor brings. It’s completely possible that she’ll decide never to speak to him again come Monday. The thought makes his stomach hurt.

 

Despite the strained state of their — Is it a friendship? He thought so, had considered her one of his better friends, thought they had been growing closer, but then… Well, Jughead had never quite made up for his idiocy. He should’ve known it’d come back to bite him. However, despite how suffocatingly silent they’ve been, despite the fact that things are complicated beyond reason between them, they work well together. They always have, one of the reasons they’d been named co-editors, even when they’d claimed hatred towards one another. Betty reads him better than a Toni Morrison novel, some days, and tonight is no exception. When she finishes marking up a page, she doesn’t even look up when she hands it to him, knowing he’s already preparing to finalize her edits. And she knows after he’s done, because he doesn’t even have to move to hand her the hard copy, having already anticipated how long he’d take on revising. It’s just the two of them, and they’re done before nine. A miracle.

 

“Mom’s out of town, so you can drop me off at the office. I’ll talk to Regina at the counter, she should get the copies printed for Monday distribution—” Betty yawns, and he’s suddenly aware of how exhausted she must be. She’s got so much going on outside the journalism room, and then with all the responsibilities of press… No wonder it appears she hasn’t slept in days.

 

“How about I take this to Regina,” he says, plucking the pen drive from her grasp and sliding it into his pocket, “and you go home and pass out?”

 

And he knows she must be exhausted when she doesn’t even attempt to argue with him. “Okay, okay.” She staggers towards him, burrowing her face in his jacket. He throws a protective arm around her, and they head out. Betty lets him take her home, and his heart soars. It’s a sign, right? That things will be okay again?

 

He walks her to the door. “Get some rest, okay?” She nods, bleary-eyed, before she wraps him in a warm embrace. His heart pounds. _Whoa_. He hugs her back just as tight, resting his chin on the top of her head. He closes his eyes and smiles.

 

 _Yeah_. Things are going to be okay.

 

 

 

 

“Top three horror movies, go!” Betty calls at him from where he’s messing with the projector, punctuating her random outburst by throwing a handful of popcorn at him.

 

“Hey! No wasting the snacks!” He cries, one hand still steadying the reel. She rolls her eyes.

 

“Glutton. Just answer the question, Jug,” she says, setting the popcorn aside.

 

“ _Psycho_. _The Shining_. And… hmm, the original _Scream_.” She covers her mouth as she laughs. He huffs indignantly. “What about you, Hitchcock blonde?”

 

“ _Silence of the Lambs, Alien, Phantom of the Opera,_ ” she says decisively. His jaw drops.

 

“Wha… _Phantom_ doesn’t count!”

 

She raises her brows. “It totally does! 1989. Just look it up!”

 

He gestures towards the screen. “What about, uh… _American Werewolf in Paris_?”

 

She shrugs. “It’s moving up on the list.”

 

“Top three?”

 

“We’ll see how it goes tonight,” she tells him, smiling. He flushes red, and she laughs, throwing another handful of popcorn at him.

 

So far, he’d say things are going okay.

 

 

 

 

 

“Uh, guys… I mean… the ‘A’ stands for ace, right?”

 

Cheryl and Kevin launch into playful bickering, and Toni stares after her girlfriend like a lovesick puppy. After everything Cheryl and Toni have gone through in the process of getting together, he supposes she’s warranted some sappy moments. Betty motions for him to join her on the couch, but he’s still uneasy. He’s invaded her home, the time she has outside of all of the drama. Is this too soon? Too much?

 

“This okay?” He asks instead. Betty smiles at him, swiping a finger across his cheek. He falls back, surprised, when he sees it’s a face mask. She snickers.

 

“Now it is.”

 

He can’t help the grin taking over his features.

 

They’re okay.

 

 

 

 

He finds Betty leaning back against the wall, staring wistfully off at their friends. “Feeling the love?”

 

She leans into his side, and Jughead catches a vague whiff of lavender. “It’s… nice, y’know? Watching everyone find their happy. Gives me hope that after everything, things can be okay.” He follows her gaze and sees Reggie twirling Josie around, Kevin attempting to teach Moose what only slightly resembles swing, Sweet Pea spinning Fangs so fast that he turns green. They’re having a great time, and wasn’t that the idea?

 

“Wanna dance?” He barely manages to duck her ponytail with how fast she whips around to meet his eyes.

 

“You don’t do that.”

 

He tries for a nonchalant shrug, but he’s sure it comes off as more of a nervous shiver. “I also don’t do this. This party. Or I didn’t.”

 

She tilts her head. “What changed?”

 

“You.” And for a moment, right before everything goes to shit, he and Betty are the only two people in the universe.

 

 

 

 

He feels terrible, so when he first opens the door, head pounding, he’s not really sure if she’s real or a product of his fever. “Betty.”

 

“We need to talk, Jones.” He feels her shove past him, stumbles back a few steps. _Real_.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

She glares at him, backing herself up against the wall. “What’s wrong is you!”

 

He reaches for her. She flinches away. “Betty,” he chokes.

 

“Why’d you say it?” Her voice is so small now, a complete 180-degree-spin from ten seconds ago. She looks like she’ll fade away if Jughead takes his eyes off her for a single second.

 

“Say what, Betts? What did I say?” He crosses his arms to keep from scaring her. She slides down to the floor.

 

“Why did you say I was unlovable?”

 

Time stops. He freezes. _No._ “I—”

 

“‘Cause you know, I keep turning it over in my head,” she continues, oblivious to the tears starting to well up in his eyes, mirroring her own. Her voice is half-crazed with pain. “I mean, you were never that terrible to me, not really. More of a nuisance than anything else.”

 

“Betty,” he says, the only thing he can think to say.

 

“So what I don’t understand,” they lock eyes, and he sees how hurt she is, and _all he wants to do is save her and it’s breaking his heart_ — “is why.”

 

He slowly inches forward. “Betty, you have to know that you did nothing, trust me—”

 

She stands now, in his face, louder with every word. “I can’t, Jug! It’s not just this one thing, it’s everything, and I can’t trust that you… that you’re…” She stutters through heavy breaths, frantically waving between the two of them. “What you’ve said, and what you’ve done, I don’t know how to move past that. I thought that I could, but with everthing, it’s too much.” She turns away, and he chases after her. He’s always chasing after her.

 

“Betty. Betty, I’m sorry—” And she’s back, staring him dead in the eye, with words that crush his hopes of salvaging this friendship with her.

 

“You’re sorry. Everyone’s sorry. But that doesn’t change what’s happened.”

 

“Betts—”

 

“Please, don’t.” She’s right, and he knows it, and she knows it, and she storms towards the door to make her own dramatic exit. He stops her.

 

“You can’t go out there until I know you have a ride. Hate me all you want, I’d rather you did that than die.”

 

She huffs. “Fine.”

 

They don’t say anything else. What is there left to say? He’s close to tears. Things will never be okay.

 

 

 

 

She pours her heart out as they slow dance, moments after the twin hurricanes crash his party, and all he can really do is admire her. Her strength, her perseverance, how determined she is to heal, not for him, not for their friends, but for herself. “That’s actually really beautiful.” _You’re so beautiful._

 

“You think?” She asks, suddenly shy.

 

His turn to be honest. “Betts… okay, on the verge of being a total sap—”

 

“You’re already a total sap, but continue,” she giggles. He pretends to be annoyed, but really he’s fighting back a grin.

 

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted… You are one of the most important people in my life. This year has put you through hell, and you’ve come out of the other side with this unbelievable capacity to love and care about people,” he tells her, and it’s the truth. He thinks of her and Toni, her and Cheryl, her and Kevin, her and Ethel, her and Reggie, and that’s just to start. He thinks of the two of them, together, and his anxiety surges. “And I know you and I have had our rough patches but—”

 

She stops him, a sudden softness in her tone. “You’re one of the most important people in my life, too.”

 

“Yeah?” His heart pounds. Can she hear it? Does she know it’s all because of her?

 

“You have been nothing but kind since everything happened. You have cared about me and our friends, even when I was less than kind to you. And Jug, you _stayed._ ” Her emphasis means everything, and she’s staring at him with as much awe and reverence as he has when he’s staring at her. “Through everything, even when I pushed you away, even when I was less that perfect—”

 

 _As if she was ever anything less than perfect to him. As if she ever deserved anything else._ He tells her as much. “You deserve it, Betty. You deserve someone who stays. You deserve everything.”

 

“I think you’re my best friend,” she whispers. He holds her gaze. _God_ , how he loves this girl.

 

“I know you’re mine.”

 

 

 

 

 

It’s midnight, the diner is mostly empty, and in a moment of chaos, Betty Cooper comes crashing through the door, completely out of breath, a wild look in her eye until she sees him. She seems to melt. “Hey.”

 

“Betts. Hi,” he says, surprised. She smiles. Her storm calms.

 

“I owe you an explanation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when you realize how close to the end we are. *screams*


	3. whenever you're ready

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This feels like home.

 

 

 

 

 

The walk back to the party is deadly quiet. The book sits close to Jughead’s chest, tucked in one arm, the other swung around Betty, pulling her close. He twirls a loose curl of her hair around his finger. Though the angle is a little awkward, Betty doesn’t seem to mind, resting her head against his chest as they amble on.

 

They haven’t talked about it. He’s not sure what needs to be said, and what is better left alone. There’s so much to be unsure of these days.

 

“You’re thinking too loud,” Betty murmurs. She glances up at him, the affection in her gaze heating his cheeks, despite the bite of the autumn air.

 

“Yeah, well,” Jughead huffs. He doesn’t really say anything else. She doesn’t press. They keep walking.

 

He imagines her running down these same streets a couple hours ago, chasing him down. She’d looked so beautiful, under the neon lights of the diner, out of breath and windblown. She’s beautiful now, most of her makeup cried off, red nose and ruddy cheeks and frizzy hair. Beautiful, in looks, in actions, in words, in heart. Beautiful, always.

 

She breaks the hush as they’re rounding the path, the house looming over them both like an ominous, rolling fog. “Do you think they’re waiting for us?”

 

Jughead sees a curtain flutter in one of the few lit windows. He stifles a laugh, but can’t help his smile. “I’d bet on it.”

 

His best friends come flying outside before they even make it to the stairs.

 

“Where were you?”

 

“God, we were so worried—“

 

“And then B didn’t come back—“

 

“Neither of you had your phones and—“

 

“Could’ve warned us, man, that was not cool—“

 

“God, you scared me so _bad,_ dude!” Toni sniffles, clinging on to him like he’ll disappear if she lets go. His heart hurts for her.

 

“Hey, hey, I’m losing air over here, too much— Jesus, Topaz, I’m _fine_ ,” Jug mumbles. She whacks him on the arm without breaking their embrace.

 

“Just, like… Tell someone before you leave like that.” He nods solemnly.

 

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” Fangs and Sweets also seem to accept this, and they settle for a group hug.

 

Wrapped up between the three of them, he peers over his shoulder to see Betty snuggled up between Cheryl and Kevin, the rest of their friends barely holding back from fussing over her. She smiles, and though he knows she’s tired, she seems… alive. Awake, full of love and hope, soft and kind and every bit the girl he remembers. It warms him all over, like Betty is a fire and Jughead is standing by and watching, warding off any cold he’s ever known.

 

Eventually, the lot of them stumble upstairs, and curl up beneath a mountain of blankets. Cheryl turns on _Psycho_ , just for him. Betty climbs up on the couch next to him, folding herself back beneath Jughead’s arm. It’s almost like two puzzle pieces, the way they fit. It’s comfortable. It’s familiar. It feels like home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You should go home,” he tells her flatly. She looks terrible. Red eyes and dark circles. She’s shaking, barely noticeable, but it squeezes something in his chest. 

 

“Fuck off, Jones.” Her voice is full of venom, but she doesn’t even acknowledge his presence with a glare. She just stares blindly at her laptop screen, typing God knows what. She groans lowly, forcibly deleting letters one by one. He’s not sure if even she can tell what she’s trying to write, at this point.

 

“Cooper—” He starts, but she cuts him off, finally exposing him to the fire in her eyes. He backs away like he’s been burned.

 

“I said fuck off, Jones,” she snarls. He raises his hands to placate her.

 

“Fine. I’m heading out.”

 

“Good.” She returns to her work with a little more vigor. She’s obviously running on fumes. He slings his bag over his shoulder, running down a list of people in his mind. Someone should stay with her. This isn’t the kind of state where you leave a person alone. Right now, more than ever, she needs a friend.

 

Once upon a time, he was her friend. The thought makes him nostalgic, so he pushes it aside. He opens the door.

 

If Betty is fire, Veronica is ice. She is cold, calculating, and right now, he is frozen where he stands. _This is bad._

 

He shifts nervously. Veronica doesn’t flinch. “Oh, um… Maybe you should come back later—”

 

“Move, Holden Caulfield.” Behind her, Archie stands tall, a promising threat. He swallows.

 

“Jughead, wait—” Betty pleads from behind him, on the verge of desperation and hysteria.

 

“She asked you to go, man,” Archie claps a hand on his shoulder.

 

Betty cries out, “No, wait—”, but he’s made his call.

 

“I’ll go,” he nods. Despite his own opinion of Betty’s best friends, they’re two-thirds of the golden trio, and they’ve known her for years. If anyone’s going to be able to help her when she’s like this, it’s them.

 

As he slips out the door, he hears Veronica utter a chilling remark. “Bettykins, let’s have a chat, shall we?” He keeps walking. It’s none of his business.

 

Looking back, he wishes he could kick himself for being so stupid.

 

 

 

 

 

“Jesus, I was so goddamn stupid.”

 

“Stop.” She grabs the lapels of his jacket and tugs him forward. He doesn’t even get a chance to react before she says, “You’re not stupid, Juggie. Our lives have been hellish all around. What matters is that we’ve changed and grown. We’re both different people now. Better people.”

 

He gulps. “I shouldn’t have called you unlovable. I didn’t mean it at all. I thought you were making fun of me. You said that we made ‘quite the picture’.” Her eyes are so shiny with tears, and he wants to cry, too. _God_ , he wants to take that night back, to save her from all the heartbreak. She doesn’t deserve it. Never has, never will. “After I said it, I felt so awful, but then you were with Veronica and Archie told me that if I went after you I’d regret it, and—”

 

“Wait, stop, Archie said what?” She tenses with fury. He’s quick to reassure her. Betty Cooper is a wildfire force to be reckoned with, and he’s way past over Archie Andrews and his bullshit.

 

“He threatened me,” he says. “Told me that if he caught me talking to you again, he’d make me pay for it. Which, like, I could’ve easily taken him in a fight back then, but—”

 

“God, I’m so sorry. They were so horrible to you,” Betty sighs, and he wants to laugh. Everything they’ve done to her, everything _he_ has done to her, and she’s still apologizing on their behalf, still so quick worry over his feelings. She’s just too good for any of them.

 

He tells her as much. “I kind of deserved it.” He does laugh, then, at the look of outrage that flashes over her features. “Betts, I was a different person back then. An objectively worse person.” And then he gets a goofy grin on his face, one he can’t quite hide, because Betty Cooper and her unending light make him feel _gooey_. “But I’d like to think that this version of me would’ve socked Archie in the jaw, that I’m better because I know you.”

 

She stares up at him, with big, blue-green doe eyes. “You did punch Archie for me, don’t you remember?” Her voice is trembling. 

 

He draws her closer, out of sheer fondness for the impossibility of this girl. Betty Cooper is too good to be true. “Yeah, I did,” he says. “Guess that makes me your knight in shining armor.”

 

She waits a beat too long before responding with, “My hero.” She takes his hand again. His heart rate may never be the same.

 

He squeezes once. “Are we okay?”

 

She smiles gently at him and tells him, “We’re golden.”

 

_How could he believe he’d ever hated her?_

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You’re texting Betty Cooper?” Fangs laughs, and Sweet Pea grins, and _God, why is he friends with these idiots?_ “Don’t you hate her?”

 

“Just give me back my phone, assholes.” He lunges at them again, but Fangs sees him coming and jumps out of the way just in time. He runs smack into the wall.

 

“So what’s up, Jug? Getting soft in your old age?” Sweets wiggles his brows. “Or are you finally admitting that you’re sweet on Mini Cooper?”

 

His face screws up at that. “Gross, why would you say that?”

 

Fangs shrugs. “We’re all thinking it, dude.”

 

“Boys.” Toni’s voice rings out from the kitchen. _Hallelujah_. “Leave him be.”

 

“But Toni…” They whine. Toni pops her head out, and points at them menacingly with a whisk.

 

“You two are the last people who should teasing someone about unresolved sexual tension.” They redden at that, and suddenly find great interest in the floor. Toni rounds on him next. “Jones, help me put these cupcakes in the oven, or you don’t get any of them.”

 

He scrambles up from the couch. “Coming, coming.”

 

They’re quiet while they finish up. Toni breaks first. “They’re for Betty. She’s helping Ethel hold a bake sale for the animal shelter.”

 

He stiffens. “Toni…”

 

“She’s a nice person, Jug,” she continues. “She’s my friend, and I need you to be careful.” She leans back against the counter, crossing her arms. “She’s hurting right now. The last thing she needs is one more person putting her down.”

 

He stuffs his hands into his pockets and shrugs. “I’m not planning on hurting her again. Ever, if I can.”

 

Toni eyes him for a long moment. “Good.” Then she shouts, “Morons! Come help us decorate!”

 

When his friends aren’t paying attention, he snaps a picture for Betty. She responds almost immediately.

 

_they look amazing! don’t eat them all please <3_

 

He barely manages to suppress his smile.

 

_no promises._

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Promise me you won’t make fun of me?” Betty asks one Thursday, holds her pinky out over the half-finished eggplant parmesan, furrowing her brows at him. She’s got a swipe of marinara on her cheek, her spatula sticking out of an apron pocket. _Beautiful_.

 

He grins, and locks their fingers. “Promise.”

 

She sighs, glaring down at the salad they’ve made, poking at it with the tongs. “I hate broccoli. It’s the worst.”

 

“Seriously?” He laughs, and she stomps her foot like a petulant child.

 

“It’s disgusting!”

 

“What are you, five?”

 

“Hey, you said…” She jabs him with her elbow.

 

“I know, I know,” he shakes his head amusedly. “Hey, pass me the flour?”

 

A mistake. Mischief dances in Betty’s eyes. Before he can jump to his own defense, she cries, “Here you go!”, and the flour goes everywhere.

 

A beat passes. Two. They both start cackling.

 

“Oh, you are so dead, Cooper!” He grabs her, pulls her into a hug. She squeals.

 

Neither of them notice Alice snapping the picture. They’re lost in a moment of _BettyandJughead_ , two kids with no cares in the world. It’s beautiful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He finds her perched at the edge of the dance floor, watching Archie twirl Veronica around wistfully. She looks beautiful. “Cooper.” Her eyes snap shut. She draws up her shoulders. 

 

“Jones,” she responds after a beat.

 

He nudges her. “All by yourself tonight, huh? I would’ve thought all the young gentlemen in town who could afford the dowry would be lining up at your door.” She snorts humorlessly, throwing back the rest of her punch and screwing up her nose. It’s an obvious sore spot.

 

“Trust me, there was no line.” She scuffs the ground with her shoe. He crosses his arms. Well, shit, now he feels bad.

 

“No one?” He asks, to reaffirm.

 

“No one,” she blows out a breath. “I’m practically unlovable.”

 

And strangely, his first response is anger, but not at her. At Veronica and Archie, for leaving her all alone, at the people in their grade, for ignoring her, at the world, for making her feel this way. Never mind the fact that he’s supposed to hate her. Only he gets to torment her. He’s the only one she lets get away with it, so why is she so beaten down right now?

 

Before he can say anything along those lines, though, Betty says, “Funny how we always end up next to each other, huh? We must make quite the picture.”

 

_Damaged loner outsider. Perfect girl next door._

 

And suddenly, he can’t stop himself. “Well, if you didn’t follow people who clearly don’t want you around like a lost puppy, then maybe you’d actually succeed in landing a date and you wouldn’t have to stand by me.”

 

Another sore spot, another open wound. She recoils. “Hey, don’t talk about them like that.” She clenches her fists, but he just keeps pushing.

 

“Why not? That relationship was born out of secrets and lies.” He gestures vaguely at the two people who have hurt her more than anything, and honestly, it’s so aggravating that she can’t see how awful they can be. “What makes you think they’re not keeping you out of the loop for a million other things? They’re keeping you sidelined right now, what makes you think it’s any different any other time?”

 

“And why don’t you have a date?” She pokes him in the chest. “Nothing better to do that sit here and pick apart my life?”

 

“For your information, I chose to come alone.”

 

“More like nobody wanted to come with you.”

 

“It’s no wonder your friends abandoned you,” he sneers. “You really are unlovable.” Immediately, he knows he crossed a line. They throw insults here and there, and yeah, sometimes he’ll push her around in the halls or knock over her books, but it’s been little annoying things like that. This is… It’s cruel. Her eyes well with tears, and he wishes he could take it back. 

 

“Oh,” she breathes. “You’re right.” His heart breaks.

 

“No, wait,” he tries, reaching out for her, “I didn’t mean—”

 

“You did,” she nods once, with a pained smile, turning away. “I’m going to go now.” She runs. He watches her go.

 

“Betty!” Veronica calls, chasing her. Should he chase after her, too?

 

“Jughead!” Archie growls, grabbing his shoulder. He winces. “What the hell did you do?”

 

“Hey, let go—“

 

“Leave Betty the hell alone, man,” he says, shoving him. “I don’t want you talking to her.”

 

“You don’t own her, Archie,” he challenges, and _oh wow, when did he get so stupid_?

 

Archie gets in his face. “Betty doesn’t need someone like you dragging her down. So stop messing with her, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

 

Maybe he could punch him. It won’t end well, but he could. Instead, he finds himself agreeing. “Fine, whatever.”

 

“Good,” Archie says. He walks away, and Jughead watches as he leaves the gym, probably to find his other halves.

 

Betty’ll be fine, right?

 

Right. She doesn’t care about him. By Monday, she’ll forget this ever happened.

 

After all, there’s no way Betty actually believes she’s unlovable, right?

 

 

 

 

 

 

He loves her.

 

It’s the first thought that crosses his mind when he sees Betty on Monday morning, as she’s laughing and singing and smiling with their friends.

 

_He loves her._

 

Jughead meets her halfway and holds his breathe. He bows, offering her his arm. It’s a teasing gesture, one he can brush off if she refuses, one that doesn’t expose his heart and leave it all on the line. “Milady?”

 

She takes it, still beaming. “My good sir.” He feels all of his worries about where they stand dull to white noise, feels the grin creep up before he can hide it. Betty quirks a brow at him, giggling. “What?”

 

He shakes his head. _You’re incredible. You’re a dream come true. You deserve the world and more. You’re perfect. I love you._ “Nothing, just… I like you happy.”

 

She leans in to him. “Me too.”

 

They’re Betty and Jughead. Two sides of the same story. Two kids, growing up and going places.

 

He loves her, and whatever comes next, they are going to be okay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
